Who Will....
To hope is a good thing,
To wish only human,
To know reality and expect is foolishness.
Who will want a soul drifting endlessly?
A soul marred with hatred?
A soul that has been venerated,
To be thrown into the bottomless pit,
Where demons green, ride on its shoulders,
Hailing, displaying their fresh hunt.
Who will want a heap of flesh porous and charred?
Porous from stabs of malice,
Drilled with their affrontedness.
A soul charred with a rancorous fire,
A fire inflamed by acrimony and grudge.
Who will want a heart despondent,
A heart once free, rebellious,
A heart that now accepts its fate.
A fate of barren trees, a parched river.
Who will desire such a melancholy?
A melancholy that may drown their euphoria?
No comments:
Post a Comment